Girl Scouts
by quokka
Summary: Tony and Ziva make a bet about who can sell the most cookies. Ziva's competitiveness reaches an all-time low (or high if you're Tony).
**AN** : This was better received on my tumblr sideblog than I had expected, so I thought I may as well post it here. Not sure whether it's really a crackfic, but it should definitely not be taken seriously (inspired by the prompt 'who can sell the most cookies'). All mistakes are my own.

Enjoy!

* * *

"NCIS has gotten a bad reputation in the news lately," Vance boomed across the bullpen.

"Really? I didn't realize NCIS had a reputation. Most people we meet seem to think we don't know how to spell CSI," Tony mumbled in the direction of his partner.

"Which is why I've decided to hold a charity fund raiser," Vance continued.

"This could be fun," Tony whispered to Ziva, "some big gala event most likely. I can see it now; you in a classy, backless gown, deep cleavage, high slit-"

"I think you're confusing classy with trashy," Ziva hissed.

Tony chose to ignore her comment, leaned in even closer to whisper in her ear, "me trying to figure out where you're hiding your backup gun and knife."

He couldn't help but grin at the raised eyebrow she sent his way.

"Which is why you'll all be selling cookies…" Vance continued his speech.

"Wait, what?" Tony's face fell as he stood up straighter, wondering whether he'd misheard Vance. As he turned to look back at Ziva and took in her pursed lips and the crinkles around her eyes, he decided she was enjoying this little change in his dream scenario a little too much.

He turned his attention back to Vance and mumbled, "I thought I joined a federal agency, not the Girl Scouts."

He sent a scowl in Ziva's direction when she tried to cover up a laugh with a cough.

"You think this is funny, David?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, but she refused to look at him and kept her hand firmly pressed against her mouth in an effort to keep quiet.

"Just so you know," he leaned in and whispered in her ear, "that gown I was picturing you in has now transformed into a skimpy girl scouts uniform."

That earned him a soft elbow punch to the ribs. Well, soft for Ziva.

"The agent who's sold the most cookies will win a weekend getaway for two in Miami."

Tony's composure straightened as he directed all his attention at Vance. Fair enough, most of his attention; a small part was still having red-light thoughts about the woman standing next to him.

"You'll receive an email from HR with all the details," Vance said and retreated to his office.

Tony turned and grabbed a startled Ziva by the upper arms. "Ziva, do you know what this means?"

At the confused look she was giving him, he continued, "I could be free off all of this for two days."

"All of…this?" Ziva questioned.

"Yes, the ugly orange walls, the annoyingly bright skylights, all the horrifically dull people…"

He completely missed the look of hurt that flashed across her face for a split second.

"Two days of not having to be reachable for our fearless leader."

He quickly glanced over his shoulder, expecting a head slap and let out a surprised "huh" when it never came.

"You are acting like you've never had a vacation," Ziva said. "Besides, what makes you think you'll win?"

His eyes snapped back to hers as he put on his trademark DiNozzo smile. "I'm the most charming agent NCIS has."

Ziva harrumphed and he said, "what, you think I can't win this?"

The sly smile that appeared on her face told him she was up to no good.

"I hear Girl Scouts are very successful at selling cookies. I'm certain I can persuade even you to buy cookies from me if I wear their uniform," she said in a honeyed voice while she looked him up and down.

Tony swallowed and became very aware that he was still holding on to Ziva's arms. He let go slowly and straightened to his full height again, coming up with a plan to make this more interesting.

"Okay, we'll make a bet," he said.

Ziva tilted her head. "The winner gets a vacation, how can a bet make this more interesting?"

"The loser has to cook the winner dinner for a week."

"Which means I will starve, because you cannot cook," Ziva shot back. "I have a better idea, when I win-"

"IF!" He gave her a pointed look.

"Fine! _If_ I win you will drive me to work for a week…at 6 AM," she said.

"Which means I'll be dead if I win because you can't drive," he replied, emphasizing the last couple of words a bit too loudly.

The head slaps seemingly came out of nowhere, as they usually do, and were followed by a gruff, "get back to work you two."

A light bulb went off in Tony's head as he checked the back of his skull for damage. Making their way back to their desks, he leaned closer to Ziva and said, "Loser has to deal with Gibbs for a week."

She looked up at him, brow crinkled in thought.

"Agreed."

"Agreed," he said and they parted ways to their respective desks.

After two weeks of trying to sell as many cookies as she could, Ziva knew her chances of winning the weekend in Miami were extremely good. Friday afternoon, Vance had come down to congratulate both her and Tony on taking the fundraising so seriously. Apparently the two of them had been miles ahead of their other coworkers.

Both of them had stooped to extreme lows in an effort to win the bet, going as far as selling cookies to witnesses during their last case. At one point, she had even managed to sell three boxes to a suspect by flirting with him, right before bringing him in for questioning. The look on Tony's face had been priceless.

She'd always had a competitive streak. But if she were truly honest, if it hadn't been for Tony's cockiness before making the bet, she probably wouldn't have gone to too much trouble trying to win the mini-vacation. In fact, she would've been happy for Tony if he had won. She might have even sold a few boxes in his name to help him…if he hadn't acted like he couldn't get away from the team fast enough. Which she had taken rather personally.

So on this Sunday evening—the last day of their bet—standing outside his door, her mind was set. If he was only interested in her as a sexual fantasy to fill his daydreams, then that was exactly what he was going to get. Her knuckles rapped the wood three times.

"Who is it?"

"Girl Scouts," Ziva replied in a singsong voice.

The door opened and as soon as his eyes landed on her, his look of confusion was replaced by wide eyes and a slack jaw. Once again Ziva was reminded of those credit card 'priceless' memes Tony had shown her a long time ago. Because the look on his face, as he took in the sexy Girl Scouts costume she was wearing, was simply priceless.

After a minute of him ogling her, Ziva set the rest of her plan in motion.

"Would you like to buy some…" she paused just long enough for his eyes to go from her naked midriff back up to her eyes, "cookies, sir?" she said, two octaves lower than normal, pursing her lips at the end.

His only reply was closing and opening his mouth like a goldfish and giving her another, very slow, once-over. At this point Ziva began to question the low point she had apparently reached in her competitiveness.

Ignoring her second thoughts, she continued in a sultry voice, "Mister, if you bought a box of cookies, you would really be helping the …" Ziva suddenly realized she had been so wrapped in besting Tony she couldn't even remember the charity. "The, uhm, charity we're collecting money for," she stammered.

Judging by the mischievous grin that appeared on Tony's face, Ziva assumed her stammering had brought him back to reality. May as well go all-in, she thought, and she batted her eyelashes at him a couple of times.

"You know what, I will buy a box of cookies," he said, then let his eyes rove all over her body again. "Because, _this_ is priceless."

Late Monday afternoon, Vance announced the winner in the bullpen.

"It was a close race, but the winner, by one box only, is Special Agent Ziva David."

Ziva looked over at Tony's desk and was surprised to see him smiling back at her with a glint in his eye. She sauntered to stand next to him and casually leaned back against his desk.

"Why are you smiling," she asked lightheartedly, looking down at him.

"I may have lost the opportunity to ogle a scantily clad woman in Miami for two days," he revealed, "but ever since last night, I can't even think about cookies without picturing you in that Girl Scouts costume. That not only makes up for losing the contest, it also makes up for losing our bet."

He quickly gave her the elevator eyes and added, "And whereas Miami would only be two days, cookies are literally everywhere."

As he moved his attention back to the computer screen, Ziva pondered her options. She had been wondering about what to do if she won. Just as she was about to go back to her desk, Tony tapped her hip with a pencil to get her attention.

"Enjoy yourself in Miami, Ziva. If anyone deserves a break, it's you," he said with an honest smile.

Ziva looked into his eyes, saw nothing but sincerity in them, and made up her mind.

"You know," she hesitated and looked down at her hands, "if you are going to keep Gibbs off my back for a week, you will need to be well rested."

Tony's brow furrowed and Ziva briefly wondered whether she had made another language mistake or whether he was being dense.

"The trip is for two…and I w…you already planned on going," she clarified, fidgeting with the pencil he had put down.

"Sounds like a plan," he said cheerfully.

She licked her lips, lightly bit her lower lip before making eye contact again, and was surprised to see him staring at her, his eyes gone dark.

"Otherwise, I wouldn't get to see you in the bikini I bought for you on Saturday."

A small smile graced his lips, one she'd rarely seen, as his eyes kept boring into hers. And realization dawned on her, that he'd had the same plan she had; spending the weekend together. Maybe he didn't think of her as one of the dull coworkers he wanted to get away from after all.

"This isn't the Girl Scouts, stop gabbing and get back to work," Gibbs called out.

Ziva was behind her desk in a flash, one head slap a day was more than enough, thank you very much. As she looked down at the file in front of her, a quiet _ding_ from the computer drew her attention.

 _'_ _bring the Girl Scouts costume'_


End file.
